


Wait For It

by BlushingKatya (OrangeVanilla)



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian AU, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mentions of alcohol, Sexual thoughts, Wedding Planner AU, but it happens, guided masturbation, it's always a lesbian au here, orgasms between consenting adults?? my kink, removal of clothing..... as friends, the smut is in later chapters, there are two separate tags so i won't discriminate, trixie's cat muffin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-14 15:46:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14139261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeVanilla/pseuds/BlushingKatya
Summary: The night air is cool against Trixie’s legs and chest, nipping at every inch of uncovered skin it can manage. Trixie only had one hour of sleep last night, and she’s got wine in her system.“Come on, gorgeous, can’t take you home if you’re not in the car,” Katya teases warmly, a hand at Trixie’s lower back.





	1. Helplessly Hoping

**Author's Note:**

> hello lovelies! i've got most of this fic finished, i just need to write the ending of the second chapter and i'll be all good to post! i'll add more tags (and change the rating to explicit) when i'm uploading the rest, because lesbians deserve explicit material in their lives  
> the title of this chapter comes from the crosby, stills & nash song of the same name, and it is BEAUTIFUL if you want to give it a listen

There’s a pile of wedding magazines on Trixie’s desk, waiting impatiently to be prioritised over her glass of wine. She nudges her office door shut with her hip, huffing as she steps out of her cream coloured pumps. Even when she’s home, she’s not allowed to rest for long. 

She flicks through her embroidered planner, three clients with afternoon appointments and a meeting about her florist contacts await her tomorrow, along with the inevitable hassle from Courtney demanding colour swatches and cake flavours. If Trixie had pictured the reality of her dream job, maybe she wouldn’t have gone into it as full force as she did.

The magazine on the top of the pile is undesirable, but Trixie opens it anyway, fingering through pages of chic new dress designs. She makes a note of the ones that might be of any interest, setting herself down in her chair and crossing one leg over the other. If she finishes looking through two magazines, she decides, she can get changed into her pyjamas and curl up on the couch, maybe have another glass of wine.

Finishing two is more difficult than she’d first thought. She drinks her way through her glass of wine, noting down page numbers and prices for every dress, hair stylist and designer she finds anything close to appealing. There’s a stable in Arizona that have horses for carriages, and she figures that could be interesting. People like horses. And Arizona is a nice place to get married, maybe. 

Trixie Mattel is nowhere near getting married. And having to look through bridal magazines for wedding dresses to sell to other people is just too much tonight. She stands, leaving the booklet open on a double spread on floral design and picking her empty glass up. Her bare feet ache against the cool wooden panelling, as she makes her way out of the office and to her kitchen.

“Hello, Muffin,” Trixie coos as her cat greets her with a loud meow, leaning down to fuss over her fluffy white fur. “You had a busy day too, huh? Lots of naps, I bet, making mama jealous,” she hums, standing and pouring herself another glass of wine as Muffin rubs against her ankles. It’s not even 7PM, and Trixie’s just ready to sleep. 

She’s in bed by 8:30, curled up under her thick duvet and reading an article about vegan dishes on her phone. Of course, her phone rings to ruin the tranquillity, answering it quick enough to save a meow of complaint from Muffin. “Please don’t tell me someone needs me, Kim, I’m in bed and I’m wine drunk,” Trixie huffs, sinking into the pillows to further prove her point.

“Trixie,” Kim says, and Trixie immediately recognises her tone, “Courtney’s coming in tomorrow and we’ve only got half the samples we need. And Alaska says she needs to see you about the catering for the Hanson wedding.”

Trixie can hear that for herself, Alaska’s definitely yelling in the background. Her one day of finishing at 5PM, and she’s being called in to solve everyone’s problems again. “Okay, can you send someone to come pick me up? I’ll bring my scrapbook and the new load I got in from Adam,” she says softly, setting her phone on speaker and sliding out of bed.

Kim’s quiet for a moment, leaving Trixie to listen to Alaska complaining about hors d’oeuvres as she shimmies out of her silk pyjamas. “I can get Katya to pick you up, I don’t think Alaska’s in any state to operate a vehicle,” Kim says quietly, and Trixie can hear the smile in her voice. “I’ll be back in a second, hold on.”

Trixie picks out a bra that’s easy on the under wiring, her breasts are too tender to go through more hours of straps that dig into her sensitive skin. Her panties don’t match, lavender against the black of her bra, but she doesn’t mind. Not after wine. 

“Okay, Katya’ll be with you in ten minutes. Sorry again, gorgeous,” Kim apologises as Trixie’s hooking the clasps of her bra, she can’t help but smile. Of the whole team of two people she’s in charge of this season, Trixie’s definitely most fond of Kim. She at least knows what to say in times like these.

“It’s okay, Kim, thank you for not yelling. I’ll see you soon,” Trixie says warmly, hanging up and pulling on a baby pink blouse. She regrets putting her outfit from earlier in the laundry already, this is a waste of tomorrow’s outfit. Her black pencil skirt isn’t ironed, and she’s not bothering with nylons, and she’s wearing flats. 

Trixie releases her hair from her loose ponytail, running a brush through it and sighing as it fluffs up with every glide of bristles. She hates this, rushing to get ready. If she had half an hour, she would at least feel less awful about her reflection. 

When her phone buzzes with a text, she’s padding out of the bathroom, lipgloss and a little almond liner on her face at such short notice. ‘outside! no rush, i’m warm and parked outside x’ it reads, and Trixie smiles as she slides her phone into her purse. Katya’s tied for favourite with Kim, and she’s not even in Trixie’s planning team. 

“Mama has to go back to work, Muffin,” she says gently as she tickles Muffin’s tummy, pressing a kiss to her ears and leaving her to lounge on Trixie’s queen bed. Trixie’s definitely jealous of her own cat. She locks her front door swiftly as she leaves, triple checking before heading towards Katya’s red Toyota Prius, hopping in and pulling her cardigan close. “Good evening.”

“I’m apologising on behalf of Alaska,” Katya smiles as she pulls away from the curb, hissing as she stalls for a moment, the car jolting making Trixie hold back a laugh. “And for my driving. Alaska usually drives, but she’s blinded by rage over bagels,” she grins, taking a deep breath and starting to drive again.

Trixie often forgets that Alaska and Katya are in a relationship. Often enough that she rarely feels bad for looking at Katya longer than she perhaps should, but not often enough to make a move on the Russian woman. They’re not exactly a couple-y couple. “What exactly is going on? If catering’s her issue, I have three on standby,” Trixie says as she pulls her book of contacts from her purse, flicking to ‘C’ and scanning over the pencilled detailed.

“That’s good, she’ll be calmer at that. The Greenbay wedding’s next week and that Jewish bakery cancelled, and this is her first big planning debut,” Katya sighs softly, running a hand through her short blonde hair and fixing her fringe. She pulls to a stop at a traffic light, glancing over at Trixie and smiling tiredly at her. “She doesn’t mean to yell. She’s just very passionate.”

“It’s okay, I yelled a lot too on my first project. And she’s older than me, so she has more power behind her yelling,” Trixie laughs softly, blushing when Katya laughs _hard_ , wheezing and flailing an arm. “It’s not a bad thing! I just- she’s very... full of life.”

Katya has a smokers cough, it’s evident as she laughs too hard. Trixie finds it strangely endearing, patting her hand when the traffic light turns amber. “Oh god, yeah, you know her well already,” Katya laughs, coughing hard as the car jolts to start again, grinning wide and shaking her head, soft blonde curls bobbing. “She’s pretty harmless, just don’t take anything to heart. We break up at least once a month.”

Trixie gapes at her for a moment, can’t imagine being in that kind of relationship. Her last relationship ended on good terms, and she’s still close with Max even now. “That sounds like hell. How can you deal with that?” she asks, tossing her little book back in her purse and relaxing back into the seat.

“Yoga helps. And smoke breaks during arguments,” Katya says very seriously, smiling when she notices Trixie’s look. “It’s fine! We’re both angry girls. I’m worse when we fight,” she says honestly, pulling in to park in the parking lot of the offices. Alaska’s in the doorway, smoking with an arm tucked under her breasts.

Trixie feels shy, always does around Alaska. She’s just intimidating, older and taller and already successful at high scale planning. Wedding planning is just a newer venture for her, like it is for Kim, and Trixie’s been placed ‘in charge’ by Courtney as some kind of punishment. “Should I go talk to her?” she asks, gripping her purse and biting her glossy bottom lip.

“I’d offer, but we’ve broken up for the moment, so,” Katya hums as she kills the engine, sitting back and groaning slowly, fingers pressing against her temples. Katya’s been working here longer than Trixie, and her experience only leads to longer days, apparently. 

“Oh no. I’ll go talk, then, you stay here and mellow out,” Trixie says gently, sliding out of the car and heading towards Alaska, glad that they’re both wearing flats for once. Alaska’s got a good few inches on her, if she was wearing heels this conversation would be even more uncomfortable. “Okay, catering. I have standbys that are super reliable, they all work late so we can call around tonight, if you want.”

Alaska finishes her cigarette, dropping it in the dip of the nearest trash bin and patting Trixie’s shoulder. “Thank you, that’ll be fine,” she says, her tone distant as her eyes flicker to the Totoya that’s blasting Britney Spears at full volume, Katya visibly smoking and singing along in the driver’s seat. 

Trixie turns when she hears Alaska heading inside, pulling her little book of contacts from her purse as they wait for the elevator. “I think we should go with Luke if you’re looking for Jewish bakers, but it’s up to you. I don’t know what Kim needs from my scrapbook, so I don’t know how closely I’ll be able to work with you tonight,” Trixie says, tone apologetic as they both step into the elevator.

“That’s fine, sweetheart, honest,” Alaska smiles, taking the book from Trixie when it’s offered and flicking through it idly. Trixie wants to mention what Katya was saying in the car, but she doesn’t exactly want to upset Alaska. “And yes, we’ve broken up.”

Trixie’s gaze snaps up, locking with Alaska’s warm green eyes as she blushes. “I- I wasn’t thinking about that, it’s none of my business,” she says quickly, always swift to panicking. Alaska laughs smoothly, patting Trixie’s shoulder again as the elevator doors open. 

“Don’t worry, princess, I won’t tell anyone that you’re sniffing around already,” Alaska purrs, stepping out of the elevator and smiling at Kim like nothing’s going on at all, like Trixie’s heart isn’t beating so hard it could leap out of her chest. “Trixie’s saving the day, she brought her book of dreams!”

Alaska disappears into one of the office rooms, presumably to start calling around. Trixie swallows hard, stepping out of the elevator and smiling weakly at Kim. “Okay. What do we need for Courtney?”

Turns out they need a hell of a lot. In the time it takes Trixie and Kim to finalise the amount of swatches and mood boards and contact suggestions they need for Courtney, Alaska’s had time to leave after finding a new caterer, and to come back with take out for them both. Trixie’s hardly awake when they’re done, the wine settling deep and making her sleepy. She’s made her way through her emergency wine, warmer than she likes, but it sits in her belly and makes the long night easier.

“Take the day off tomorrow,” Kim says gently, patting Trixie’s hand when she starts dozing off over the mood board covered in fabric samples. “Courtney won’t mind, she knows you work hard. And I’ll let her know that you saved both of our asses tonight.”

Trixie’s too tired to argue her case, nodding slowly and standing from her chair. “Thank you, Kim,” she says softly, letting Kim pull her into a warm hug and yawning softly. “Call me after the meeting with Court, tell me how it goes,” she hums against Kim’s chest, pulling away and trudging to the door. The elevator doesn’t work past 9PM; she learned that in her first week here with two arms full of flowers.

The stairs are dark, so much so that Trixie has to grip the banister hard as she takes the stairs one at a time. The lights are still glaring on the second floor, though, usually meaning someone’s still at work. She can’t help but look, curious even when she’s ready to get home and climb into bed for the night. 

“Hello?” Trixie calls softly as she pushes the door open, starting to think that someone just left the lights on without thinking when there’s no reply. She makes her way past offices with locked doors and no lights until she reaches the second to last one, spotting a familiar blonde. “Katya?”

Katya glances up, smiling warmly and closing her laptop at the sight of Trixie. “Hello, you. Did you get my text?” she asks, sliding her laptop into her bag and pulling her jacket on. Trixie’s always been in quiet awe of Katya’s dress sense, never one to wear typical office clothes. Today she’s been wearing a plaid dress with a black denim jacket covered in little buttons, and she just looks good.

“Sorry, my phone died,” Trixie sighs softly, she didn’t get the chance to charge it much at home before being dragged back. Katya keeps smiling anyway, standing and clicking her office light off. “Was it something important?”

“I’m your ride home. I figured you’d be stuck with an Uber or a cab, so,” Katya hums as she makes her way to the stairwell, producing an actual flashlight from her bag and clicking it on. “You can still get an Uber if you want. But I’m here. If you want.”

Trixie blushes, nodding and stepping through the doors as Katya clicks the second floor lights off, leaving them with just the torch light. “That would be amazing, thank you. I’m so tired,” Trixie yawns, following slowly as Katya leads them both down the stairs. She doesn’t really know if Katya and Alaska are back together, too anxious to ask. 

The night air is cool against Trixie’s legs and chest, nipping at every inch of uncovered skin it can manage. It’s easily past 10PM, which would usually be fine. But Trixie only had one hour of sleep last night, and she’s got wine in her system. “Come on, gorgeous, can’t take you home if you’re not in the car,” Katya teases warmly, a hand at Trixie’s lower back. She’s been staring at the door for a few moments, jolting slightly at the soft touch. 

“Sorry. I’m spacey today,” Trixie blushes, sliding into the passenger seat and closing the door. Katya’s car is warmer than outside, a welcome change. She sets her bag down at her feet, closing her eyes and yawning as she relaxes. 

“You take a nap,” Katya says gently when she’s in the car, after a few minutes of pottering around in the trunk. Trixie’s eyes flutter open, smiling weakly and nodding. “I’ll have you home soon, котенок,” she smiles, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot without a single jolt. 

Trixie’s asleep in a matter of moments, drifting off to Katya’s humming along to the radio. She didn’t realise just how tired she was, always so dedicated to her work, to helping people. She wakes when she’s lifted from the car with ease, murmuring softly as the car door shutting brings her back to the land of the living. “Wha..?” she mumbles, smiling lazily when she hears Katya’s laugh.

“I’m carrying you in,” Katya smiles, striding to Trixie’s front door and furrowing her brow when she realises her mistake, setting Trixie down to lean against the wall. Trixie’s in quiet awe at Katya’s strength, she’s easily heavier than her, as well as taller. “I’m going to grab your bag, wait here.”

“Wasn’t planning on running away,” Trixie giggles as Katya jogs back to her car, leaning over the gear stick to fetch her purse, being careful to not let anything fall out. She takes the key out of the ignition, locking the car on her way back to Trixie. “Thank you. You’re very sweet.”

“I’m being a good friend, Trix. You’re tired,” Katya smiles, tone so soft it makes Trixie’s eyes glossy. She fishes the house key from her purse, unlocking the door and helping Trixie over the threshold. “Do you want me to help you into bed?”

Trixie knows she can do it herself, this is only a one storey home and she’s not above sleeping in an outfit she’s worn for maybe two hours. But she nods anyway, wants to be taken care of like Katya’s here just for that. “Please,” she says quietly, closing the door behind them and locking it, discarding her key on the cabinet by the door.

Katya finds the way to her room easily, a strong arm wrapped around Trixie’s waist as she leads her to bed. “Oh, who’s this?” Katya smiles as she helps Trixie up into bed, clicking her tongue softly as Muffin rolls over in lazy interest. 

“This is Muffin,” Trixie smiles, toeing her flats off and yawning as she watches Katya stroke Muffin with so much joy in her face. “She’s a good housemate, very cozy.” 

“I love cats,” Katya smiles, turning her attention to Trixie once she’s happy with how much Muffin’s purring. “Okay. Are you okay with me getting you into pyjamas?” she asks gently, so sweetly careful with how comfortable Trixie is.

“That’s fine by me. I’m not hiding any secrets in my bra,” Trixie teases, tummy fluttering at the laugh her words recieve. She bites her lip as Katya’s nimble fingers start unbuttoning her blouse, her face smooth and calm as she eases soft fabric from Trixie’s shoulders, cool air settling against Trixie’s breasts.

She starts regretting not wearing a matching set when Katya’s fingers glide the zipper of her pencil skirt down, lifting her hips so she can slide it down her legs and off, taking her panties with it in one fluid motion. Trixie feels safe, in just her bra in front of Katya, like this is just normal. Like Trixie isn’t single at all.

“This is nice,” Katya smiles softly in reference to Trixie’s bra as she moves onto the bed to ease the clasps open, close enough for Trixie to smell her, musky perfume and cigarettes. Trixie’s breasts spill out of the lacy fabric as the last clasp is released, and Katya makes a point of setting every discarded item of clothing on top of the laundry basket by her closet. “The silk pyjamas?” she gestures to the puddle of pink silk on the floor, a smirk on her lips.

Trixie nods, swallowing hard and lifting her arms when Katya motions for it. Every movement Katya makes is slow and measured, full of patience. “Thank you,” Trixie breathes as Katya straightens the silk so her breasts aren’t straining against the camisole. Katya kneels to help her into the shorts, sliding them up her long legs and shimmying them up when Trixie lifts herself again. “Where are you staying tonight?”

She speaks before she can really think about her words, blushing and glancing down to her lap. Katya looks surprised for a moment, brows pinching as the question settles in. “Not sure. Can’t go back to the apartment,” she hums, easing the thick duvet over Trixie when she lies back. “I’ll find a hotel for the night. Binge on room service,” she smiles again, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Stay here,” Trixie whispers, placing a warm hand over Katya’s cooler one and holding her breath as they lock eyes. “Please. You’ve been so kind to me, let me help you.”

Katya sits back on her knees, sighing softly and glancing down. Trixie wants so badly to smooth the worry from her face, but she stays quiet, just watching Katya think. “Just for tonight. I don’t wanna intrude,” Katya says softly, glancing up when Trixie squeals like they’re seventh graders at a sleepover and not two grown women about to sleep together in the least exciting way. “Trixie,” she says fondly, pushing her denim jacket off slowly. 

“I’m just glad I can repay you,” Trixie lies, sitting up a little as Muffin hops off the bed, rubbing against Katya’s heeled ankle boots. She’s crushing hard, excited to just spend more time with the Russian blonde. “You can hop in here, if you want. Plenty of room.”

Katya quirks an eyebrow, smirking lightly as she works the zip at the side of her dress down and slips out of the smooth tartan fabric, setting it on the laundry basket. She sits at the foot of the bed to take her suede boots off, hair falling to cover her face as she leans down. “I sleep nude, if that’s okay,” Katya hums, setting her bare feet flat against the soft carpeting and smiling when Trixie nods. “Do you have any makeup remover I can steal?”

Trixie reaches into the shelf in her bedside table, handing a pack of makeup wipes to Katya and yawning, grabbing a hair tie from the box by her lamp and sitting up to tie her long hair back. “I can send Muffin into the living room, if you want,” she offers, watching quietly as Katya rubs her makeup off in slow circles, the muscles in her back moving in tandem with her arms. Muffin’s still near Katya, weaving between her ankles, visible to Trixie in the long mirror of her closet. 

“She’s fine, I like her. Good taste in women,” Katya laughs, tossing the wipe in the wastepaper bin and picking the Ragdoll cat up slowly, pressing a kiss to her fluffy tummy as she stretches. “I didn’t have you pegged as a fan of cats. You seem like more of a house bunny type of girl.”

“Rabbits are my next pet goal, actually,” Trixie admits, legs rubbing against her sheets as she gets comfortable. Katya takes this as a hint, setting the spoiled cat down on the carpet and heading around to the other side of the bed. “You know me well. Five years, and you know my pet aspirations.”

Katya laughs smoothly, sliding her panties off slowly and sliding under the duvet, easing her bra off when she’s comfortable on the mattress. Trixie doesn’t watch, just revels in the sounds alone, clicking the light off when Katya settles to lie down. “Thank you again for this, Trix,” Katya says softly, fingers trailing idly over Trixie’s bare arm, tapping over the smatterings of freckles near her elbow.

Trixie sleeps in a matter of minutes, soothed by Katya’s soft murmuring at her side, a tune with no words she can focus on.


	2. In the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie's mind wanders easily as she takes a bite from her apple. She’s never really thought about Katya before yesterday, not for longer than maybe a few minutes. She’s always _known_ her, the Russian woman with perfect bone structure and bright colours and white than white teeth. And now she’s here, after spending the night, and Trixie’s heart flutters like she’s a teenager with her first crush all over again. 
> 
> Trixie startles from her daze at the feeling of a hand brushing at her hip, Katya’s wrapped in one of Trixie’s kimonos, cracking the back door open and stepping outside to light her cigarette. “Katya, it’s gonna rain,” Trixie warns her.
> 
> “So let me get wet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the wait! this ended up a little longer than i anticipated and i'm a bad bad bad editor!! hopefully the final chapter will be out soon (if i improve my editing skills) as that was actually written and finished before the first two chapters, because i am Bad at writing in a linear pattern. hope ya dig this chapter tho!

When Trixie wakes the next morning, Katya’s draped over her stomach, mouth open and pressed against exposed skin where the silk camisole has ridden up in the night. Her breasts are warm and soft against Trixie’s waist, everything about Katya is warm. 

Trixie slumps back against the pillows, the realisation that her phone is still in her purse dawning on her. The alarm clock lets her know it’s nearly 7:30. She can still make it into work if she rushes a shower and goes in with her hair wet, but this is too nice to leave. Katya’s a comfortable weight against her bare skin, blonde hair tickling as she moves to arch her back, joints clicking audibly.

“Mmf, morning,” Katya murmurs against Trixie’s skin, accent thick as she peeks up at the younger woman, smiling lazily. “I’m guessing we’re taking a day off? I need to make breakfast, pay you back.”

“Katya, we’re even. You saved my ass, I saved yours. And from what I’ve heard about your cooking, I’d prefer to make breakfast,” Trixie hums, shrieking when Katya bites at her hip. Katya sits up, pushing a hand through her thick roots, combing her fingers through the lengths and yawning. “You sleep well?”

Katya nods, resting against the pillows and gazing at Trixie. Trixie manages to grab her purse from the side of the bed, finding her phone and plugging it into her charger. “I did, thank you. Your bed is nice and warm,” Katya hums, arms tucking under her tanned breasts as she shudders, cool morning air hitting her. Her nipples are peaked, rosy pink and pert. Trixie glances down, focusing instead on the cut of Katya’s hip. “Really, thank you for letting me stay the night. You saved me from tension. These titties can’t handle it.”

Trixie screeches a laugh, checking her phone when it starts buzzing with notifications. She’s got a missed call and a text about a ride home from Katya from yesterday, one from Kim wishing her a good morning, telling her to stay home or put up with suffering extra paperwork. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want,” Trixie hums, setting her phone down on the nightstand and curling up again, gazing up at Katya. “I like the company. And Muffin is a fan,” she smiles. 

“That’s sweet,” Katya hums, tickling her fingers along Trixie’s forearm and blinking heavily. Her accent still thick as syrup, making Trixie quiver as she closes her eyes. “I should head into the office later, try to solve things.”

“Is that really what you want?” Trixie asks softly, opening her eyes as Katya’s fingers pause against her skin. She’s not suggesting that Katya should end things with Alaska just to be with her, this isn’t selfish. “Honestly, you don’t deserve the stress of it all. It’s not fair for you both to have to keep going in a loop.”

Katya’s quiet for a moment, stroking her thumb over the crook of Trixie’s elbow. Trixie can imagine that this isn’t close to her usual morning routine, imagines her smoking in bed with a mug of coffee, still naked, maybe freshly showered. “We fought about me spending too much time in work,” she says quietly, interrupting Trixie’s train of thought, gaze drawn to the face of the woman beside her. “I barely work what I’m contracted for. I just have a lot of clients,”

Trixie nods, content with just listening. She knows Katya’s one of the favoured planners, and with good reason. She has a way of arranging things, finding patterns and flowers and dresses from places that no one else thinks to look. And her demeanour is pulling, always bubbly and patient and gracefully unorganised. Katya is, in many ways, what Trixie aspires to be with her own planning. 

“I need a cigarette,” Katya decides once she’s done thinking, brows knitted together. Trixie hums, sliding out of bed and grabbing a robe. Katya’s still very naked, and Trixie’s neighbours like prying on her.

“Where are your car keys? I’ll find your bag,” Trixie offers, pulling her lavender robe on and stepping into her flats from yesterday. Katya quirks an eyebrow, laughing when Trixie finds her keys in the nook of her nightstand, swinging them on her finger. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone,” she teases, making her way to the door and heading out.

The air is cool and wet as Trixie steps outside, early morning drizzle welcoming her face as she trots to the Prius, opening the door to the backseat and moving a few sweaters around. Katya’s car isn’t messy, but there are a few bits and pieces thrown around. A planning notebook, three jackets and a chiffon scarf covered in little mice are all crammed into a seat pocket, no bag in sight. 

Alternatively, the trunk is full to the brim with bridal magazines, flower samples and fabric swatches, and Trixie raises a brow in surprise as she picks Katya’s bag up, revealing a box labelled ‘emergency supplies’ in Katya’s scrawled handwriting. Trixie doesn’t intrude, closing the trunk and locking the car, triple checking the door before heading back inside. 

Katya’s still in bed when Trixie returns, teasing a now awake Muffin with her fingers, the thick duvet now covering her breasts. Small mercies. “Delivery,” Trixie smiles, setting Katya’s bag down on the bed and pushing her flats off, yawning as she pulls her hair out of her ponytail. 

“Thank you, miracle worker,” Katya grins, popping the clasp open and searching to find her cigarettes and a lighter, setting them on top of her bag as she grasps her phone as a last thought, scrolling through notifications hastily. “Fuck off. They need me in this afternoon.”

Trixie’s quietly glad, already worried about breaking out in hives over missing this morning’s presentation. “I’m gonna head in too, if that’s okay with you. I need to call my florists,” Trixie decides as she props the bedroom door open, padding to the kitchen to make coffee. 

“That’s fine, they need me for 12,” Katya calls after Trixie, her accent less heavy after being awake for a good few minutes. Trixie misses it selfishly, brewing a pot of coffee and grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl. Her kitchen is nice and open plan, big windows that greet the rising sun and welcome an orange glow into the room. She’s lucky enough to have a modest garden beyond the kitchen door, even if the grass is due for cutting any day now, framed by rose bushes ready to be pruned.

Her mind wanders easily as she takes a bite from her apple, wiping away juice that spills over her lips and down her chin. She’s never really thought about Katya before yesterday, not for longer than maybe a few minutes. She’s always _known_ her, the Russian woman with perfect bone structure and bright colours and white than white teeth. And now she’s here, after spending the night, and Trixie’s heart flutters like she’s a teenager with her first crush all over again. 

Trixie startles from her daze at the feeling of a hand brushing at her hip, apple falling from her fingers and rolling crookedly along the marble counter. Katya’s wrapped in one of Trixie’s kimonos, smiling as she cracks the back door open, stepping outside to light her cigarette. “Katya, it’s gonna rain,” Trixie warns her, rolling her eyes when Katya shrugs. 

“So let me get wet,” Katya replies, leaning against the doorframe as she starts smoking. Trixie pours coffee into two mugs, padding to the door and pressing the emerald green mug into Katya’s free hand, resting opposite her in the doorway. “Trixie. It’s going to rain.”

They share a look, Trixie tuts as she takes a sip from her sweet pink mug. She’s still got Katya’s coffee preferences memorised from when she started working for Courtney, black with more sugar than the average human would want. By the sound of her appreciative groan, it hasn’t changed. “Heard anything from Alaska?” Trixie asks quietly, toes pressing against the cold cement step. 

“Text. I have until tomorrow to pick my things up, or it’s all going to Goodwill,” Katya yawns, sucking on her cigarette and tilting her head back against the wooden panel of the doorframe with her exhale. Trixie sighs into her coffee, not sure if this is like one of their regular breakups. She feels bad, she’s known Katya in passing for years, probably lost her patience with her needlessly, and she’s been in the world’s longest rollercoaster relationship. “I’ll have to go after work. Do you have any suitcases I can borrow?”

Trixie huffs through her nose, loud enough for Katya to look at her, taking a long swig of coffee and blinking slowly. She looks bone tired, wrinkles etched into her forehead from her habit of pinching her brows. “We can go now, if you have keys. My team has a meeting with Courtney at 9AM,” she suggests, last time she had seen the microwave clock it had read 7:43. They have plenty of time.

Katya stares for a moment, taking a drag from her cig and blinking her sleepy blue eyes. “I’m due for a client at 12, Trix, I have a lot of shit to pack up,” she sighs, yawning and watching as Trixie makes her way back indoors. The drizzle picks up when Katya follows her, dropping her cigarette in the sink and running the faucet over it. “Trixie.”

Trixie’s making her way into the bedroom, sliding her closet door open and pulling out a large, bubblegum pink suitcase. “We can work together!” Trixie calls, beaming as Katya joins her in the bedroom, emerald mug nursed between her hands. Katya doesn’t look thrilled at the idea. “Come on, Katya, it’s this or you having to deal with tension in your titties.”

Neither idea appeals to Katya, by the look on her face, but she kneels to help Trixie pull a second suitcase out anyway, setting her coffee down on the carpet. “You drive a hard bargain,” Katya hums, yawning openly as the lilac and turquoise striped case is eased from the closet. “If she comes home before we’re done, you’re leaving. This whole mess isn’t something for you to have to worry about.”

“And where am I gonna go, hm? Walk around the block until you’re done fighting with Alaska?” Trixie huffs, glancing at the pile of clothes atop the laundry basket. “Go shower, I’ll give your dress from yesterday a spritz with rose water,”

Katya doesn’t argue, just leaves her mug on the floor as she stands, padding to the en suite. She grabs a pink hair tie from the nightstand as she passes. Trixie waits until she hears the water running, starting to rummage around for her rose water in the bottom of her closet. Muffin joins her to demand some pets, purring when Trixie tickles her nails over her fluffy back.

“There we go,” Trixie hums as her hand clasps the cool spray bottle, pushing the cap off and spraying a patch of carpet for Muffin to sniff at curiously. “You like that, baby? You like mama’s rose water?” she coos, shifting to sit cross legged on the floor, smiling when Muffin rolls onto her back, purring loudly as Trixie fusses over her. “Such a sweet kitty, aren’t you? Mama doesn’t need anyone else, huh, does she? Good as gold,”

Trixie loses track of time easily, and the rain outside picks up enough to mask the sound of the shower stopping, making her startle all the more when wet fingers pick the bottle of rose water up. Katya’s smiling like she’s just walked into a petting zoo, one of Trixie’s towels wrapped around her torso, short enough to only just come down past her butt. “Thank you for the rose water, mama,” Katya winks, heading over to the laundry basket and picking her dress up. She leans over slightly, and Trixie averts her gaze when she sees a flash of blonde curls under the towel. 

“I’m gonna hop in the shower, don’t let Muffin in the closet,” Trixie says as she stands, picking Katya’s discarded mug up and setting it atop her dressing table. Katya nods, pulling her hair from her loose ponytail as Trixie passes. “Use anything you need, I’ll try to be quick,”

Trixie doesn’t lock the door behind her, propping the window open to let some steam out and sliding her robe off. She clears the mirror, watching herself undress slowly, wide brown eyes examining her figure. Her dieting has been paying off, she decides as she splays her fingers over her tummy. The soft curve of it makes her quietly happy, that feeling only growing as she trails her hands over the thickness of her hips, her creamy thighs. She feels more desirable now than she did a year ago, even with the remainder of pudge that clings whenever she relaxes her posture.

The water is comfortably warm, greeting Trixie’s skin as she piles her hair into a loose bun, not bothered to wash it for a half day. She smiles faintly when she notices the cap open on her lemon zest shower gel, picking out her peach and passion fruit body scrub and rubbing slow circles over her heavy breasts, sliding down over her waist. 

Trixie’s eyes close as she relaxes under the water pressure, teeth digging into her plush bottom lip as she dips her fingers between her thighs. She leans a shoulder against the wet wall of the shower, breathing out a sigh as she circles over her clit. 

There’s a voice in the back of her mind insisting that she shouldn’t be doing this with a co-worker in the other room, but she hasn’t touched herself in a week, and that was before bed on a Tuesday night. She misses just going out and getting laid. 

It doesn’t help that Trixie’s already soaking wet, grinding against her own hand as she moves to press a fingertip inside, just enough to feel how slick her pussy is and spreading it. A series of shaky moans spill from her lips as she swipes her middle and index fingers over her labia, trembling as she rubs over her clit. She’s never really been able to stave an orgasm off like her exes could, too sensitive and quick to give in to her need for pleasure, too selfish to make herself wait. 

She moves her other hand up to squeeze over her breasts, drawing in a gasp as she pinches her peaked nipple. Her mind wanders, focusing on her usual vanilla fantasies, she’s a princess and she’s marrying a beautiful queen, not Trixie in the shower. Her queen today is European, she’ll have to move away from home, but she’s happy if it means she’ll wake up to blonde hair and soft skin, watch crimson lipstick glide over already pink lips, just to have it smudge over her own pale flesh in the comfort of their bed.

Trixie’s close to her orgasm, focusing hard on her thoughts. Her chest heaves as her fingers work against her clit, pushing down every so often just to spread her slickness over her fingerprints, gliding like cream. She thinks of Katya in the next room, close enough that she could hear everything if she cared to listen. Katya and her red mouth and her soft hands, a mess of blonde hairs that Trixie could press her nose against while she gets her fill, coaxing moans with every long stroke of her tongue against her nectar sweet pussy.

A whine forces its way from Trixie’s throat as she comes, almost losing her footing as she presses her back hard against the shower wall, her hand leaving her breasts to cover her mouth. She’s panting hard through her nose, swallowing hard and filling her palm with cherry body wash, still shaking as she rubs against her skin. She’s sensitive all over, making quick work of finishing up before stepping out of the shower. 

Trixie’s towel feels too synthetic, too close against her curves, but she pats herself dry regardless of her discomfort, pulling her silk robe back on and collecting her pyjamas up. She’s been in the shower long enough for the rain to have stopped. Katya’s on the bed when she steps into her bedroom, fully dressed and make up. “That rose water is a miracle,” Katya says smoothly, glancing up and smiling gently at Trixie. “Muffin stayed away from the closet, didn’t you honey?”

Muffin looks like she’s on cloud nine, curled up in the white peaks of the mussed up duvet and being stroked by Katya’s long fingers. Trixie gets another spike of jealousy for her own cat, picking out a black and white dress from her closet and setting it on the bed. “Thank you for saving my shoes from being chewed,” she smiles, opening her underwear drawer and making a point of choosing a matching set. 

Katya lies back on the bed, hair splaying against the fitted grey sheet of the mattress and watching Trixie in the mirror. “It’s no trouble. I’m good at looking after cats,” Katya grins as Trixie drops her robe, and Trixie can see the way Katya licks her lips in her peripheral. She pulls her lacy panties up, red as deep at Katya’s lips, methodical with her choices. “You need help with your bra?”

Trixie turns to peek at Katya on the bed, nodding and holding the thin material in her hands. This bra doesn’t really give her as much support as her others do, but it makes her boobs look good, full and perky and natural. Katya pushes herself up, making her way to Trixie’s side and drawing cool fingertips up her spine. Trixie places the cups over her breasts, pulling the straps up her arms and waiting patiently for Katya to hook the clasps together. 

“This is nice,” Katya whispers, pulling the straps together and locking eyes with Trixie in the dressing table mirror, eyes perfectly lined and sparkling lagoon blue. Trixie bites her bottom lip, leaning down when her bra is fastened and picking up her favourite lipstick, a purple-pink that makes her lips look full and plump. “You wearing that dress to help me pack my things up?”

Trixie nods, the air heavy and still as she glides the lipstick over her lips slowly, pressing them together and glacing at Katya through the mirror, a heavy feeling lingering in her stomach. “Yeah. You like it?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper. Katya’s hands rest against Trixie’s skin, just where the fabric of her panties cut into her skin.

They stay like this for a while, staring at each other. “I like it,” Katya breathes after a moment, pressing a chaste kiss behind Trixie’s ear, like they’re married and just about to meet friends in the evening, and Trixie’ll let Katya get her hands up her skirt in the cab on the way. Trixie’s heart is thundering, chest tight as she turns to face Katya. “You should put it on. We don’t have long.”

And with that she steps back, grabbing both suitcases and her car keys. Trixie stares at her for a moment, watching her grin with those perfect teeth as she heads out of the bedroom. “What the fuck,” Trixie murmurs under her breath, making her way to the bed and pulling her dress on, not bothering with the zipper. 

Trixie grabs her purse and her phone from the nightstand once she’s found a pair of mauve pumps, coaxing Muffin from the bed and into the kitchen, intent on getting her fed before she has to leave for the day. She knows her neighbours like feeding the greedy little Ragdoll cat when she’s at work, but breakfast is important. 

Katya’s in the doorway when Trixie stands from filling the food and water tray up, smirking like she owns Trixie’s one storey home. It makes Trixie quiver. “Come on, Barbie, we have a wardrobe to pack. And I owe you breakfast,” Katya winks, pushing away from the frame and strutting to the car. Trixie blows Muffin a goodbye kiss, picking her purse up from the counter and following Katya quickly. 

Trixie does the rest of her makeup in the wing mirror of Katya’s Prius, quietly blessed that traffic is such a nightmare in the mornings. “You sure about all of this?” Trixie asks, sighing quietly when Katya gives her a confused look. “Like, are you sure you and Alaska are definitely over? Because I’ll help you move back in, but you’ll owe me.”

Katya snorts out a laugh, resting her head against the steering wheel when the traffic stops altogether. Trixie’s infinitely glad she doesn’t live in the city, her morning drive takes ten minutes at the most. Katya probably has to sit through this every day. “I’m pretty sure we are, yes. It’s been over for a while, though,” she says smoothly, offering Trixie an earnest smile. “We’ve been breaking up every month for a year, Trixie. Can’t keep fixing a broken bicycle, it’ll jab you with a rusty nail ad give you tetanus in the end.”

They share a look, both women erupting into screeching laughter at Katya’s seriousness, only stopping when a car behind them honks. Katya’s wheezing as the car jolts forward, making Trixie scream a laugh behind her hand. “What the fuck is your brain, you witch?” she shrieks, wiping a tear from her cheek and fanning her face as she calms down. “Oh my god. Ow. My ribs are killing me.”

The block is practically empty when Katya pulls up outside her apartment building, save for an elderly woman walking her terrier. “We should be fine for eavesdroppers, unless Linda’s gonna blow our cover,” Katya grins, hopping out of the car and grabbing both suitcases from the back. Trixie slides out, smoothing the front of her dress down and pushing a hand through her damp hair.

“What floor do you live on?” Trixie asks as she follows Katya inside, suddenly aware of her pumps and the lack of desire she has for walking up stairs. She’s not really sure if this complex has floors, but she hopes Katya lives on the ground one. 

“Ground floor,” Katya says as she leads the way down a corridor, laughing at Trixie’s sigh of relief. She stops by a door, grabbing her set of keys from her jacket pocket and unlocking the apartment door, dragging the suitcases through the doorway and disappearing into a room.

Trixie takes a moment to look around, closing the door behind her and biting her bottom lip. This is a nice apartment, full of colour and life, plants in bright yellow and blue pots, rainbow rugs and posters on the walls. She follows the sounds of Katya’s grunts into the bedroom, where Katya’s sprawled across a quilt covered bed, reaching for something under the bed. “Need any help?” Trixie asks gently, laughing when Katya almost slides off the bed. 

“I’m okay, just finding my old phone,” Katya’s voice is muffled from under the bed, yelling when she holds it up. Trixie takes the moment to open the suitcases, kneeling beside the pink one and waiting patiently for Katya to start looking through her wardrobe. “I still have nudes on this phone. I don’t need Alaska to find my catalogue of tit pics and porn bookmarks.”

Trixie squawks at that, watching Katya toss her phone into the bottom of the pink suitcase and opening the closet. It looks like an organised mess from where Trixie’s sitting, full to the brim with dresses on hangers, huge storage containers marked in multicoloured Sharpie, half of them with Alaska’s name, the other half with various languages. She knows enough French to recognise the word ‘fish’ on a box that looks full of makeup. “God, you weren’t lying about having lots of stuff.”

Looking at it all, Trixie’s worried about her own tidy closet space. She has a nice little system, plenty of room to look over outfits before picking them. Every hanger is pressed close against its neighbours in this closet. “We can shove the storage boxes in my car, they can live in there for a while if they need to,” Katya decides, picking out a few dresses and handing them over for Trixie to fold and pack into the suitcases.

They work in relative silence, Katya stopping her rhythm of unpacking to squint at dresses every so often, Trixie removing hangers dutifully and stacking them. “I think the smaller suitcase will fit my underwear,” Katya muses once they’ve filled Trixie’s pink case to the brim, and Trixie laughs until Katya opens her two underwear drawers.

“Katya!” Trixie gasps, and she’d be judgemental if she wasn’t in such a similar situation at home. At least they have underwear in common. Katya grins, grabbing handful after handful of lingerie and piling them into the second suitcase. It’s not nearly as organised as Trixie’s meticulous folding and setting, but the pile of lace takes up less room, at least. 

It takes a few moments for Trixie to notice the finer details of Alaska and Katya’s room, now that she’s not helping. There are pictures covering the walls, some framed, some taped, most of them of Alaska and Katya together. Katya’s very pointedly not looking at anything other than her lingerie, huffing and flopping onto the bed when the drawers are empty, staring at the ceiling. 

Trixie moves to sit beside Katya on the bed, kicking her heels off so she can cross her legs. “It’s okay, Katya,” she says when she’s decided the silence has lasted long enough, resting a hand on Katya’s ankle and smiling when they lock eyes. “You’re allowed to be upset.” 

Katya hums, her face softening as Trixie trails her fingers over her calf. “It’s been coming for a long time,” she says firmly, like she’s reminding herself. Trixie’s gaze doesn’t falter, her brown eyes full of sympathy, support. Years of being the mom of her college friendship group has taught her to wait for people to talk, not to force it. “It’s just weird. I’ve lived here for two years, and now I’m moving out ‘cause the sex doesn’t justify the arguing anymore.”

“A relationship that relies on sex isn’t really a relationship,” Trixie sighs softly, all too aware of how hot it is in this room, how her thighs rub together when she moves to get closer to Katya, her calves prickly against the green and black quilt. Katya closes her eyes, looking serious. “It’s not. If you have to have sex to prevent arguments, those are the only two constants. And that’s not fair on either of you.”

“It worked for a year,” Katya murmurs, and Trixie sighs loud enough for her to open her eyes again. “It did! We had two years of a good relationship, and one year of sex and arguing. That’s an okay ratio,”

Trixie stares at Katya, neither of them laughing. She half wants to slap Katya for being so casual about it all, half wants to cuddle her close and teach her about love like they’re in an episode of Sesame Street. “If you wanna get back together with her, I won’t stop you. But I’ll think you’re an idiot. You’re hot, Katya, you’ll be in another relationship in a few weeks if that’s what you need.”

Katya snorts at that, rolling over and groaning. “I think I need a break from dating,” she decides into the quilt, and Trixie feels her shudder when she places a hand on her lower back. In the years she’s known Katya, only ever in passing, she’s never really understood her. She can’t see that changing soon, not really. But this is a start. “Unless Muffin is single. Can I date your cat?”

They spend the next hour with the radio on, Katya collecting trinkets from around the apartment, including a series of animal figurines from the windowsill in the kitchen. Half of the plants are declared to be hers, and half of the pictures, and most of the blankets draped over every chair. There’s a framed piece of a deer covered in what looks like blue paint that Katya insists she needs, shoving it into the nearest storage container along with a stack of books in different languages. Trixie gives up following Katya around after twenty minutes, falling asleep on the couch to the sound of the shorter blonde debating with herself over whether she needs to keep a box of shells.

Trixie wakes to the sound of hushed talking, the radio turned down and a severe lack of Katya talking about her love of collecting unusual things. “You don’t have to move out, she’ll let you stay if you need to,” a voice that distinctly isn’t Katya’s says, and Trixie hears Katya groan huskily. 

“Ginge, I’m not gonna live with my ex when I can move in with Wedding Planner Fantasy Barbie and her cat,” Katya hisses, the bedroom door opening when Trixie snorts at what she’s hearing. “Good morning! Ginger and I took everything to my car, and I’m ready to leave, if you are,” she beams, cramming her mouth full of a bagel. 

Trixie yawns, clearly her morning orgasm took more energy than it gave her. “Um. Sure. Thank you for helping, Ginger, it’s nice to meet you,” Trixie hums, smiling distantly at the woman in the doorframe. If this is Ginger, she looks pissed. 

“Can you please tell Katya that she doesn’t have to fucking move out?” Ginger crosses her arms over her chest, making Katya groan again and bite the insides of her cheeks, huffing through her nose. “Alaska’s just being dramatic, she won’t really-”

“I think it’s a good idea, actually.”

Ginger and Katya both turn to look at Trixie, who’s still sleepy eyed on the sunken couch. She only now notices Katya’s changed her outfit, swallowing hard when she really _looks_. Katya’s wearing a pair of tiny shorts that look like they’re leather, paired with a David Bowie tank top and knee high boots. And she’s definitely not wearing a bra. 

Trixie only realises she’s staring when she sees Katya’s grin, blushing when she hears Ginger sigh. “I mean, I’ve tried living with my ex before, and it was bad. We’re friends now, but only because we had time apart to mend,” she says quietly, startling when Katya directs a laugh at Ginger. 

“I told you! You’ve had one boyfriend for six years, Ginge, you’re not an expert on this area of life,” Katya grins, handing Trixie a white chocolate chip muffin. “I know you’re afraid of losing your lesbian best friend, but I’ll still be alive,” she beams, sliding on a pair of sunglasses and pressing a red kiss to Ginger’s cheek.

“Barbie, you better keep her away from the fucking stove,” Ginger’s clearly holding back a smile, giving up when Katya wraps her arms around her shoulders, tucking her face against her neck. Trixie takes a bite of muffin, waiting nice and quietly for Ginger and Katya to have their parting moment. “I mean it, whore. No stove, I’m not saving your ass when you’re living your suburban gay fantasy,” Ginger says against Katya’s shoulder, the both of them cackling as they part, Katya’s head thrown back. 

“Fuck you! That was one time, and I only left that pancake for a few seconds!”

“You set a _pancake_ on fire?”

Katya wheezes at Trixie’s shock, arms flailing as she tries hopelessly to explain. Trixie’s just happy to see Katya happy again, sliding off the couch slowly and passing both women to grab her pumps from beside the bed. She takes a moment to look around, the room looks different than it did when they first arrived, less crowded. 

Trixie slips her hand in Katya’s when they’re walking back to her car, after Ginger’s given her a list of things to stop Katya from doing. Their fingers link together in the packed car, Katya sighs quietly and wipes peanut butter from the corner of her mouth when she checks her lipstick in the mirror. “Thank you,” she says earnestly, glancing over at Trixie and placing her free hand on her forearm. “You’re being really sweet.”

“What was this morning?” Trixie breathes, swallowing hard when Katya’s expression shifts to something she can’t quite read. It’s been on her mind in short bursts, and Trixie’s not really willing to just let it slide without a single word. “It’s fine if I took it the wrong way. But like-”

“I’m hyper sexual in the mornings.”

Trixie stares for a long while, searching Katya’s face for a hint of a joke. There’s none. “Is that like, a medical thing?” Trixie’s brows knit, and she bites her lip when Katya snorts, shifting in her seat to fully face Trixie.

“I’ve had sex almost every morning for two years. I’ll tone it down, sugar, I promise,” Katya offers, and Trixie screams internally, she doesn’t want that at all. She wants Katya’s hungry eyes on her at all times, wants her hands on her body, her lips wherever they please. 

“I didn’t hate it,” Trixie hurries before Katya can change the subject, “but I don’t wanna be a rebound,” she says quietly, heart fluttering at the look Katya gives her. This isn’t a good idea, it’s fuelled by her morning fantasies, the lingering thoughts of a dream Katya fucking her with her tongue and her fingers, and she’s blushing _hard_ in Katya’s passenger seat thinking about it again. “Please, I just don’t wanna be a rebound, Kat.”

Katya shakes her head, offering Trixie a gentle smile, her face soft. “We’ll just cruise, then. If it happens, it happens. Not a rebound,” she offers warmly, moving to face the steering wheel when Trixie nods. “I still owe you breakfast. I know a diner near work, if you want?”

Trixie nods, smiling and trying to ignore the way Katya’s breasts look in her tank top, the tanned skin on show between where her leather shorts end and her leather boots begin. The air in the car is hot, even when the windows are open. All she can focus on is the curls of Katya’s hair, her fingernails against Trixie’s skin as she keeps just one hand on the wheel.


	3. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katya's hands are cool against Trixie’s burning skin, patient at her waist and easing her skirt open. Trixie’s still uncomfortably wet, and it dawns on her as Katya pulls her skirt down. Trixie pushes herself to sit up, eyes lidded as she watches Katya’s expression change. “Oh.”
> 
> “Katya,” Trixie breathes, swallowing hard and curling her hands in the thin duvet to stop herself from pushing her fingers through Katya’s hair. Katya’s eyes flit up to meet hers, brilliant blue and echoing the smirk on her lips. Trixie’s face gets hot. “Katya, I’m-”
> 
> “Is this for me?” Katya purrs, hands placed over Trixie’s knees, thumbs stroking over the flesh of her thighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am still bad at editing swiftly, but i have made it!! thank you for taking this journey with me you wonderful people, please enjoy the fruits of my labour <3

Living with Katya is one long, strange dream.

Trixie’s been sharing her home with Katya for the past four months, and she’s starting to lose her mind. It’s not that she’s a bad housemate, because in that respect, she’s a dream. She pays rent on time, she cleans up after herself, she keeps all of her planning in her office at work so it doesn’t confuse Trixie. Katya drives them both into work most mornings, since she sleeps like she’s dead and wakes like a lamb on the first morning of spring. 

It’s the way she flirts that’s killing Trixie. It starts with her morning sex drive, lingering glances as Trixie dresses, fingers that brush over the tops of her thighs when she’s trying to move her out of the way. Katya’s always close, playing with Trixie’s hair or painting her nails or rubbing her back, singing to herself in Russian as she cooks in heels and lingerie, blaming it on the warm Hollywood weather. 

Admittedly, Trixie doesn’t help herself. She watches as Katya strips every evening, admires the subtle curves in her figure, the way her body stretches and bends when she wakes from a particularly deadening sleep. Katya still sleeps naked, always ending up close to Trixie through the night, and she’s still always most flirtatious in the mornings, thick accent and lazy smiles as she cosies up to Trixie’s side. Trixie masturbates every single morning in the shower now, coming with Katya’s name caught in her throat and the awareness that she listens as she dresses in the bedroom.

Work isn’t much of a relief, not even Trixie’s season of teamwork is over. The first few weeks of Katya living with Trixie overlapped with the last few weeks of her working with Kim and Alaska, which meant she had four long weeks of Alaska glaring at her like she’d stolen the declaration of independence. Every time she thought about giving up the waiting and just kissing Katya, Alaska would be there at her desk, talking about the past, about how Katya got her into wedding planning and Katya helped her get contacts and Katya got her here in the first place.

She’s been moved to a different floor now, officially part of the branded team of planners. It’s intimidating, knowing she’s allowed to work completely individually, that people will see her name on the website alongside Courtney and Bianca and Katya. She’s been moved to the second floor, her office between Jinkx and Katya. Katya, Katya, _Katya_ , never too far from her thoughts.

They go for lunch together most days, relaxed together in the sticky afternoon glow, too close for it to be completely innocent. Katya likes resting her hands on Trixie’s thighs, likes to wipe stray peanut butter from the side of Trixie’s mouth, drinks wine with her lunch and gets cosy and blames it on a low tolerance, even though Trixie’s watched her down vodka and be perfectly stable during her more stressful nights.

Trixie finally starts relaxing into things when she learns Alaska has a new girlfriend. She feels less guilty about just wanting to kiss her beautiful roommate, seeing Alaska moving on and being happy and not staring Trixie out in the reception area. Katya seems to relax, too, the unspoken tension dissipating over nights spent curled up on the couch together, Katya’s fingers stroking against the peach fuzz of Trixie’s thighs.

It’s a lazy summer evening, Trixie’s drunk on wine and lying draped over the couch, her head in Katya’s lap and Katya’s fingers in her hair. Katya’s not much more sober than Trixie, but she’s composed enough to be sitting upright, at least. “I just think,” Trixie slurs, mostly against Katya’s abs, “we should totally plan together. We live together! It’d be beautiful!”

“We can bring it up to Bianca, hm? You can make a whole PowerPoint about how _together_ we are,” Katya grins, leaning down to press a kiss to Trixie’s temple, undoubtedly leaving a print. She’s the first one ready for bed for once, in just her red kimono, black thong and makeup. Trixie’s still in her dusty pink pencil skirt, blouse discarded by the door and breasts covered by her thinnest bra. Her nipples are hard, the AC on full blast and she’s thankfully feeling it. “I think we need to get you into bed, huh?”

Trixie pouts, trailing glittery silver nails under Katya’s kimono to scrape lightly at her stomach, over every defined feature. “Wanna stay up and talk all night, Zamo, wanna talk about how we’re totally meant to be together,” Trixie begs quietly, pushing her pumps off with the help of the couch cushions. Katya keeps stroking her hair, her black almond manicured nails dragging across Trixie’s scalp, making her whine. Katya looks so stoic when she’s the one who isn’t drunk, like a matron. It makes Trixie unbearably wet, thighs sliding together as she moves. She’s ruining this skirt. “Katya.”

Katya raises a brow, smirking when her eyes lock with Trixie’s. “Bed time, mama. I’ll help you undress,” Katya says smoothly, always a fan of teasing Trixie with that pet name, just to see the blush rise in her cheeks. If there’s one thing Trixie’s learned, it’s that Katya likes to be quietly sadistic. “Come on, sugar. Time to sit up.”

It takes a moment for the room to stop spinning, Trixie clings to Katya’s hand as she groans. Trixie curses that bar down the block, their crisp wine and their comfy seats, the music that Katya loves to roll her hips to. One drink after work turned into four for Katya and seven for Trixie. They’re more responsible than this, usually, Katya’s now 33 years old and stops them both when things get carried away. But they’ve both been working hard, Katya’s got a high profile wedding next week and Trixie’s got a whole notebook full of clients to plan for. 

Trixie grips Katya’s hand hard as she’s led into the bedroom, focusing on the support at her waist, the tickle of Katya’s hair at her shoulder. “I wanna redecorate,” Trixie decides as Katya sits her down at the foot of the bed, lying back on the duvet and tracing her fingers over the swirled yellow patterns. “We should buy new furniture. Paint the living room.”

“Not tonight, beautiful,” Katya laughs, her cool hands against Trixie’s burning skin, patient at her waist and easing her skirt open. Trixie’s still uncomfortably wet, and it dawns on her as Katya pulls her skirt down that she’s eye level with her pussy. Trixie pushes herself to sit up, eyes lidded as she watches Katya’s expression change. “Oh.”

“Katya,” Trixie breathes, swallowing hard and curling her hands in the thin duvet to stop herself from pushing her fingers through Katya’s hair. Katya’s eyes flit up to meet hers, brilliant blue and echoing the smirk on her lips. Trixie’s face gets hot. “Katya, I’m-”

“Is this for me?” Katya purrs, hands placed over Trixie’s knees, thumbs stroking over the flesh of her thighs, doing nothing to cool her down. Trixie nods, whining when Katya’s gaze returns to her pussy, Trixie doesn’t need to look down to know her thighs are shining with her own slickness. “Oh Trixie, honey,” Katya sighs, her voice thick and warm and making Trixie’s head foggier still. 

Trixie knows she’s breathing loudly, rolling her hips down to get some friction against the bed when Katya licks her lips, hooking her fingers under the elastic of Trixie’s thong, pulling it down without waiting for Trixie to lift her hips. “Katya, Katya,” Trixie whimpers, watching as Katya moves up to remove Trixie’s bra, calm and collected. “I need you, Katya, I want it,”

Katya shakes her head, discarding Trixie’s bra on the floor and letting Trixie pull her kimono open. “Trixie, baby, I can’t,” Katya murmurs, pressing a kiss to Trixie temple at her whine. “You’re drunk, I’m not gonna do something you’ll regret,” she says without a hint of lenience in her tone, coaxing Trixie to the pillows. Trixie’s whole body is thrumming, arching pointlessly against the cold pillows and making all of the noises of complaint she can manage.

“Please, I need to get off,” Trixie moans, pressing a hand between her swollen lips and stroking slowly, gazing up at Katya as she removes her own thong. Her hands are too warm, not nearly as relieving as Katya’s cool fingertips would be against her wet opening. The tops of Katya’s thighs are visibly slick, too, but she stays firm, sliding into bed beside Trixie and pressing her cold hand against the gentle swell of her belly. “Katya, I’m so horny,” she whines, almost sobbing when Katya presses close against her side.

“Touch yourself, mama, I’ll talk you through it,” Katya purrs, and Trixie does as she’s told, trembling fingers gliding over her clit and sending a jolt of shivers through her body. “You can’t edge, can you? I’ve heard you in the shower, gotta be the quickest girl to come I’ve ever known.”

Trixie gasps when Katya’s lips press against her shoulder, willing for her hand to just move up and press over her aching breasts, to play with her nipples or press her fingers in her mouth. “Katya, I can’t,” she moans, closing her eyes when they glisten with tears. She’s oversensitive, skipped an orgasm this morning because she was running late, and her clit is throbbing and tender to the touch. 

Katya nips at her skin, shifting so her mouth is closer to Trixie’s ear. “I know you can’t, baby, you’re so needy,” she tuts, words husky in her throat as she ghosts her fingers up, palming over the swell of Trixie’s left breast and kneading lightly. It’s enough to draw a tear from behind Trixie’s closed eyes, pure desperation getting the best of her. “Oh, sugar, it’s okay,” Katya soothes her, and Trixie can hear the concern in her voice. Katya cares about her, Katya wants her to be okay, and it makes Trixie so unbelievably close. 

“Katya, please, I need to-” Trixie groans, eyes rolling back behind her lids when Katya’s tongue presses against the shell of her ear, licking slow and wet. She can feel Katya’s pussy against her hip, burning hot and slick, sliding against the sweat on her skin. Her own fingers keep slipping against her clit, too wet for any real relief.

“Come whenever you need to, beautiful, I’m right here,” Katya moans, her nipples hard against Trixie’s soft bicep, painted lips dragging against her throat. Trixie comes hard, ‘ _Katya, Katya, Katya_ ’ spilling from her lips like a mantra, and Katya holds her close, pressing open mouthed kisses to her flushed neck.

They sleep tangled in each other’s limbs, once Katya’s kissed away the tears that keep trailing down Trixie’s cheeks. Trixie wakes at intervals through the night, to Katya snoring lightly against her collarbone, Katya shifting to roll onto her back, Katya pushing out of bed and closing the curtains, clicking the light off.

When Trixie wakes fully, Katya’s nursing a mug of black coffee between both hands, sipping slowly and smiling when they lock eyes. “Good morning,” Katya says smoothly, and Trixie drinks in the loose tank top she’s wearing, the pink and white boxers. It’s strange, waking to see Katya clothed. “There’s water on the nightstand for you, sugar, drink up,”

The water is freezing, a welcome sensation in the sticky heat of summer. Trixie swallows a few mouthfuls, sitting up slowly against the pillows and crossing her arms under her breasts. “Thank you. And I’m sorry about...” Trixie turns her gaze to the duvet, blushing when Katya presses a warm hand against her ankle. “If I put you in an uncomfortable situation. We can forget about it, if you want.”

“Trixie, look at me,” Katya says gently, and Trixie does as she’s asked, her heart fluttering at the tranquil look on Kayta’s face. “I liked it. I like you, Trixie, a lot. If it was just the alcohol, that’s fine, we can leave it. But I do like you. I mean it.”

Trixie stares for a moment, waiting for Katya to laugh and tell her she’s joking. But she doesn’t, she just stays looking at Trixie, until Trixie blinks hard with her glassy brown eyes. It’s probably the lingering effect of wine from the night before, maybe. “I like you too, Katya,” she whispers, wiping at her eyes and sniffling. “I really, really like you. And I was scared that you were just seeing me as a roommate, and I didn’t wanna push it,”

Katya hushes her when she starts crying out of relief, setting her mug down on the nightstand and pulling Trixie into an embrace, stroking a hand through her tangled hair. “It’s okay, sugar plum, I get it,” Katya soothes, rocking Trixie slowly and sighing gently. “No more stress, hm? I’m here. We like each other.”

When Trixie’s done crying, Katya finds a brush and starts easing the tangles from her long blonde hair, hooking her legs around Trixie’s waist and pressing close against her back. Trixie closes her eyes, getting lost in the steady, gentle pull at her scalp, finishing her glass of water by the time Katya’s brushed her hair through. 

“What time is it?” Trixie asks after a moment of silence, relaxed by the feeling of Katya close against her back. Trixie doesn’t usually close the curtains, and it’s so light in the mornings now that it could be 6AM, for all she knows. She keeps her eyes closed, just existing in the moment, in the way Katya’s breathing is smooth and slow. Katya’s guided her through some meditation recently, and it’s made her more stressful moments infinitely easier to deal with. 

“It’s around 10, we have the morning off. I called Courtney,” Katya hums, pressing a kiss to the nape of Trixie’s neck and squeezing at her hips lightly. “If she asks, Muffin ate a lily and you panicked. Come on, we need to shower,”

“I would _never_ keep lilies in the house, Katya!” Trixie gasps, a warm feeling pooling in her tummy when Katya laughs, straightening her legs from around Trixie and crawling out of bed, grabbing her mug of coffee on the way to the bathroom. “I’ll tell Courtney _you_ brought a lily into the home to poison our cat.”

Katya sets the shower to run, heading back into the bedroom as the water heats up. “Come on, Trixie, shower,” she teases, sliding her tank top off and stepping out of her boxers. Trixie grabs two hair ties, throwing one to Katya as she twists her own hair into a loose ponytail. She’ll need to wash it now it’s been brushed, but it’ll be easier with Katya and her patience. “Are we keeping shower time PG, or are we ready to explore your morning routine together?”

A blush creeps up on Trixie’s cheeks, she can stop getting off to just the thought of Katya. Trixie pushes herself out of bed, kissing Katya’s lips quickly and swanning into the bathroom. “My morning routine is definitely something we should both experience,” she decides, smiling when she notices Katya’s propped the window open. It’s only taken her four months to learn.

The mirror isn’t steamed up yet, and Trixie’s reflection is bare faced, last night’s makeup has disappeared during the night. “You slept through me wiping my lipstick from your ear, I figured you’d sleep through me getting the rest of your makeup off,” Katya presses a kiss to Trixie’s shoulder before she steps under the spray of the shower, moaning and dipping her head under the water. 

Trixie joins her after examining a hickey that she definitely doesn’t remember receiving, immediately glad for the extra space in the shower. Katya’s a fan of being close, but it’s comfortable, her hands resting at Trixie’s hips like they so often do, squeezing lightly as she smiles up at Trixie. “Wanna help me get clean?” Trixie hums, reaching over Katya’s head to grab a bottle of mango body wash.

Katya ignores the question, leaning down to kiss over Trixie’s nipples, her hands moving to pinch at Trixie’s round butt, kneading slowly. “Wanna worship you for a second,” Katya hums, resting her head against Trixie’s chest and just staying still for a moment. Trixie feels so warm, letting Katya hold her for as long as she pleases, until her hair is soaking wet and steam has filled the bathroom. 

“Am I allowed to eat you out?”

Trixie laughs loud at that, screeching when Katya grins. “Katya, we’re- that’s not how to get someone in the mood!” she whines, handing Katya the bottle of shower gel and setting her hands on her hips. “But yes, you’re more than welcome to eat me out. Maybe not in the shower, though.”

The scent of mango rises as Katya empties gel into her palm, setting the bottle on a shelf and starting to rub lazy circles into Trixie’s skin. Her touches are tender, making a point of exploring every inch with her fingers, every roll that Trixie usually tries to avoid thinking about, every silvery stretch mark, the scar on her thigh from a bike crash when she was nine. Katya’s quiet for maybe the first time since she moved in, pressing sweet kisses as she works her way down Trixie’s body, ending up on her knees.

Trixie knows she’s soaking with need, half a Pavlovian response to the shower, half with the way Katya’s so slow. “Katya,” she murmurs when Katya’s kisses get close to the tops of her thighs, and she glances up at that, a knowing look in her eyes as she laps slowly over Trixie’s lips, dipping so _slightly_ between them. Trixie gasps, leaning her shoulders back against the wall and biting her bottom lip. It’s a welcome change, feeling Katya’s tongue in place of her own fingers.

Katya pushes her fringe back from her eyes, sinking her tongue inside Trixie’s slick entrance and pressing her face close against Trixie’s pussy, her pointed nose bumping against her clit. Trixie rests a hand against Katya’s hair, gripping lightly at her roots as she rolls her hips down against Katya’s face, whining as she gets too close too fast. 

Her orgasm hits as soon as Katya’s tongue twists in just the right way, whole body trembling as she keeps herself upright. Katya sits back on her heels, panting lightly and grinning as she looks up at Trixie. “Thank you,” Katya beams, looking like she’s just won the lottery, and Trixie laughs breathlessly with her, helping her stand when Katya complains about her knees. 

“I want you to sit on my face,” Trixie whispers, smirking as Katya’s eyes widen. “Finish showering first, though. Wash my hair, please?”

Katya does as she’s told with a sense of urgency, whole body buzzing as she massages shampoo into Trixie’s long blonde hair, kissing her slowly when Trixie insists her raspberry conditioner needs time to sit in her lengths. “You’re cruel,” she laughs against sugar pink lips, and Trixie ghosts a hand between Katya’s thighs, just to feel how wet she is, both women sharing a moan, Katya’s one of relief, Trixie’s one of desire. “Is your conditioner done now?”

Trixie insists on washing Katya, unable to leave the same trail of kisses when Katya leans her against the wall, fingering her open and fucking her slowly with two slender digits. They’re both being cruel, now, Katya grinning against the soft cut of Trixie’s collarbone when she comes again, one hand gripping Katya’s hair and the other clenched around the bottle of shampoo. 

They’re both flushed to all hell when they step out of the shower, Katya’s hands pruned up like raisins and coarse against Trixie’s thighs. “Bedroom, now,” Katya begs, soaking wet all over and running out of the en suite. Trixie can hear her jump on the bed, taking her time to dry off before joining her. This is the first time she’s really seen Katya need anything other than a morning cigarette, and she glows as she gazes at Trixie from the bed, eyes wide and bright as she chews her bottom lip. “Trixie,” she says, sitting impatient and fidgety.

Trixie crosses to the bed, giggling when Katya takes her hands, pulls her into a kiss as she climbs onto the bed, until she’s lying back against the mattress, Katya grinding at her hip. “Katya, baby,” Trixie hums, feeling how wet Katya is against her hip and gripping her thighs. “Come on, let me pay you back. Let me taste you.”

Katya hums, sitting up slowly and resting her hands against Trixie’s soft belly. “I’m gonna be honest, I’ve never been the one on top for face sitting,” she admits, moving to kneel over Trixie’s face and holding the headboard tight. Trixie’s still got her hands on Katya’s thighs, bringing her down slowly, until her breath ghosts against Katya’s slick pussy and makes her twitch. “Oh, Trixie,”

“Just relax into it, I’ve got you,” Trixie says softly, laying her tongue flat over Katya’s lips and moving in slow strokes. Katya sighs dreamily, grinding her hips down against Trixie’s tongue and gasping as Trixie presses closer, holding Katya’s hips and mouthing over her clit until she’s shaking. 

Trixie groans smoothly, sucking lightly over Katya’s labia and drawing her closer so she can relax against her face. “Jesus, Trixie, god,” Katya huffs, rolling her hips down so Trixie’s nosing against her mess of dark blonde curls, her tongue curling to press inside the hot, wet clutch of Kayta’s pussy. Katya grabs a handful of Trixie’s hair, grinding down against her tongue and hissing through gritted teeth. “Trixie, baby, you’re so fucking perfect,”

Trixie’s eyes slide shut, letting Katya ride her face slow and steady, in bliss at the fingers tugging at her hair, the short, breathy noises spilling from Katya’s lips. She wiggles her head a little, tonguing over Katya’s swollen clit and sucking lightly, and Katya tugs hard at her roots, spikes a wave of pleasure straight to Trixie’s pussy. 

Katya raises her hips for a moment, and Trixie’s panting like she’s finished a marathon, chest heaving as she presses her face up against Katya’s cunt, lapping like a kitten to a bowl of cream. Katya’s pussy is on another level of glory, wet and hot and sticky. “Please,” Trixie begs when Katya doesn’t lower herself to sit immediately, opening her eyes to blink up at Katya, laughing breathlessly when she sees her face.

Katya’s cheeks are flushed scarlet, beads of sweat trickling down her temples with the droplets of water from her wet hair. Her thighs are quivering, forearm tense and veined where she’s gripping the headboard with her left hand. “I’m close, Trixie, baby,” she breathes, moaning when Trixie circles her tongue against her clit, one hand moving from her thigh to finger her slowly, stroking between her labia and pressing the tips of her middle and ring fingers inside Katya’s entrance.

It takes a few pumps of Trixie’s fingers inside Katya for her to come, moaning loud and trembling as she leans against the headboard, and Trixie curls her fingers slowly inside Katya’s clenching wetness, licking at her clit until Katya twitches with every lap. Her mouth is wide open as she pants, blue-green eyes lidded heavily, and Trixie could stare at her for hours. 

Katya’s trembling all over as she moves to settle beside Trixie, grinning when she’s calm and somewhat relaxed against the mattress. “First time we’ve had sex, and I just sat on your face,” she says around a wheeze, and Trixie screeches, reaching for a tissue to clean herself with. She’s still soaking wet, selfishly hopeful that Katya will just know from her expression and touch her again.

“I need to shower again,” Trixie groans, closing her eyes when Katya’s head is against her shoulder and her hand rests against her stomach, rubbing slowly over the soft, squishy flesh. Trixie’s put on weight again since Katya moved in, her love handles are back in full force and she has more stretch marks around the swell of her belly, and she blames it all on Katya’s flirting over cocktails and chocolate. She glows at the way Katya strokes her skin, makes her feel like she’s a work of art to be admired. 

“Think I do too, if you wanna hop in together?” Katya suggests with a wink, and Trixie groans, laughing tiredly. She’s too worn out to even think about what a second shower would bring, and they’re still due in for work. 

“I can’t handle more orgasms from you, not if Courtney’s gonna be on my case later. She reads me too well,” Trixie yawns, sitting up slowly and pushing a hand through her damp hair, already starting to knot. “We’ll be stuck in a loop if we shower together,” 

Katya lies back against the pillows, crossing her arms and watching Trixie crawl out of bed. “I wouldn’t complain, but I’ll let you live a peaceful life,” she grins, flopping over to mush her face into the pillow. Trixie’s glowing when she looks over herself in the mirror, her skin pink at her cheeks and chest. She brings herself to an easy orgasm in the shower, coming undone to the familiar sound of Katya singing in Russian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please feel free to message me at blushingkatya on tumblr with any and all trixya thoughts bc i am a lady with a lot of thirst and love for these two queens!! hope you've enjoyed this!! <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on twitter & tumblr at blushingkatya if you want to give me some more love or trixya au ideas!


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